Hoist the Colors
by Zoey McCusker
Summary: A song leads to a story and a story introduces the past she never knew and never expected.


_Okay, sorry it's so short, but this was kind of like the introduction. Also, the story takes place in our time. Don't be alarmed, I will go into more detail in more chapters if the audience so desires me to continue. R&Rs will more than likely be returned! I promise! :)_

"Yo ho, hoist the colors… ne-ever shall we die."

Cassy silently sang as she walked down the sidewalk with her hands sagging out of her front, jean pockets. And as the words escaped from her lips, she could just taste the new air of change as it swirled around her in the dark of the night.

A small, still note played against the quiet of midnight and Cassy froze. It was the ending pitch that she had just sung. Cassy's emerald eyes strained into the front lawn of the house nearest her. Dying daisies flanked the rotting, yellowed porch that had the antique feel of dead beauty. Willow trees with arms outstretched flowed around her in the night. And when one brushed her arm, she jumped back in fright and just barely missed slipping off the sidewalk and onto the deserted road behind her.

The note ceased, but Cassy's heart did not have the same privilege. It continued to thump inside her chest as she stared at the old, forgotten space. Yet, even though she was frightened, her wild imagination began to turn as she stared at the house. Cassy could almost see an old, model ford vehicle with the classic color of black as it rolled to a halt by the grand living quarter. Children, none above nine, burst out of the automobile to rush into the arms of the welcoming grandparents. They, obviously, owned the inviting house and had specially repainted the porch swing just for them. The daisy heads were swept to the side briefly as the kids raced past, but, from many good waterings, they instantly sprung back up to quake slightly in the gentle breeze.

But then, the unexpected happened, the children, which now stood by their parents, the parents themselves, and the grandparents, all turned and gazed blankly at Cassy. Taken aback she stumbled slightly backwards.

"Yo ho! Hoist the colors!"

Yet more shock overtook her as they began to sing the same tune she had just dropped. Cassy blinked her eyes shut and gave them a fierce rub. When the finally dared to peer out again… they were gone. She breathed a sigh of relief and could not help but chuckle a little at her own stupidity. Of course, it had all been her imagination! Her mom had said for quite a while now that she should stop daydreaming so much.

"It's not good when reality rolls around," she had said.

"Thanks, mom," she muttered into the stillness… or was it still at all. Was it just Cassy's imagination getting to her again, or did she actually hear the soft and tender voice of the united family whispering the tunes of the song.

It slowly grew until she began to search around her for the vocalists. And then, with panic welling inside her, she could take no more and began to gallop down the sidewalk with such a ferocious speed that she barely even felt it when her tennis shoe slipped off to be long left behind.

The voices seemed to be able to keep her in good company, though. Cassy slapped her hands over her ears and continued her descent down the old street of Harrington. And finally, she reached the ancient grocery store that the small street thrived on: The Goods Store. The name was a pretty good indication of its age.

Forgetting all that, she rushed inside and did not quit running, despite the cashier's calls, until she was safely locked inside the bathroom in the back. Ready to sob herself to age, she sunk down onto the closed toilet and wept into her palms.

The voices of the forgotten family still rang in her mind, but Cassy still had a little sanity left to know that they were gone.

"I wrote that song," she moaned into her palms, "How could they know it?"

But then, her normal self seemed to return and she realized that she had probably just imagined the entire thing. And instead of rising and facing the world again, she just bent her head down again and continued her crying, but this time, more out of embarrassment and fight for calm than anything else.

Hoist the Colors had been a song she had been inspired to write after reading Treasure Island. Apparently, it had gotten to her more than she expected it would. Cassy almost felt excited about leaving just so she could tell her boyfriend, Ryan, about the exciting trip home from Jess's house.

Feeling more confident, she rose and inspected her smeared make-up in the mirror.

"Just my imagination," she told herself as she reached for the door out, "That's all it is."

But then, the most blood curdling, gravely, unctuous voice she had ever imagined possible began speaking from seemingly everywhere.

"_Dead men tell no tales!_"

Instantly, she recognized it as a line from Treasure Island. Now, she could not convince herself it was just her imagination. Forgetting to turn the knob, she slammed against the door in her attempt to run out. Cassy quickly corrected herself and then burst through the door.

And as though someone had been standing in the doorway saying it, the line was repeated in that same, awful voice from within the bathroom.

"_Dead men tell no tales, ya hear?_"

Cassy heard, all right, and somehow, she grasped the message that she couldn't tell anyone what had happened tonight… or else.


End file.
